Thursday, July 26, 2012

Capturing Boredom

boredom
1.  the state of being bored;
tedium; ennui.

origin 1850-55  bore + dom

~synonyms
dullness, doldrums, weariness
~antonyms
excitement, diversion, amusement



Recently, a good
friend of mine
declared over coffee,

I either have to
get a part-time job
or a puppy.

Her three children
are all tweens or
teens and as a stay
at home mom she's
found herself staring
down some long days.



She's bored.

Although I totally
sympathize with
how she must feel,
I can not relate.

At all.

In fact, the more
that I thought about
her words, the more
I began to worry a
bit about myself,
because I am never,
ever bored.

Ever.



Honestly, I'm not
sure I ever have been,
even when employed
at some pretty
mind-numbing jobs.

I'm writing this at
an assisted living
home, as the sweet
strains of my daughter's
harp entertains guests
in the dining room.


You can learn a lot as
an observer, here.

The residents do not
rush through their 
meals.  They savor
them, lingering over
coffee, heads bobbing
in conversation.

Many drift by the harp and
speak in low tones to my
daughter, thanking her
for sharing her music or
admiring her instrument.



When they finally do
get up to leave, even
 those with walkers
and canes stride briskly 
past us with purpose.

We have places to be!
they seem to say.

Definitely not bored.



When we pull into the
 drive of the Homes each 
week, there is often someone
sitting in the sunshine,
eyes closed and face
upturned toward the light.

Do I think they are bored?

No.

That sort of time ~ time 
to enjoy the rustle of leaves
from the lake winds or the
feeling of warm sunshine
on rosy cheeks, seems to me
like one of the sweetest 
diversions
that there could be.



Every day I find myself
thinking, I need to Google
that! in response to a question,
thought or idea that I want
to pursue when my schedule
allows it.

There are books to be read,
movies and shows to devour,
recipes to be tried, photos
to be taken and trails to be
cycled, loved ones to be cuddled,
good friends to be chatted up,
 and the ever changing show
that Mother Nature provides
to be admired.



There is so much to know
about life, living and this
beautiful planet that we call
home, that I believe I will
still be hungering for more
when it's time to depart this
 lovely Earth.

Am I weird that way?

Perhaps.  

But bored?  No way.



How about you?  Are you
chasing boredom, or do
you wish for more hours
in each and every day?


Oh, and
my friend?

She got the puppy.

xo
Suzanne









Wednesday, July 18, 2012

The Fun House



It's been several
years since Legos
graced the
surfaces of our
house ~

or Webkins, 
Neopets, Polly
Pockets, Playmobile
figurines, Beanie
Babies or Bionicles.



Our trampoline
came down last
spring and the playset
was carted off by
a new owner the
following autumn.

We don't have a
pool, a slip-n-slide or
even a hoola-hoop.



Despite unspoken
worries that my
God-daughter would
be bored at our 
teenage-stage home,
she cried on the 
day she and her 
mom were leaving.

Your house is
so much fun! she'd
exclaimed several
times over our long
weekend together.



Fun?  Really?

Which made me
stop and consider....

Instead of seeing
all those things that
our house doesn't
have, Isabella was
entranced with all
those things that it
does have.



A dog.  {Gracie
loved having an
11-year old little
girl in the house,
again!}

Front loading washer
and dryer.  {She liked
seeing the spin cycle.}



Just-baked banana
muffins for breakfast.



Crazy man-boy sized
12 shoes piled up
on the mudroom floor.
{Cool!}


Flowers from our
gardens bursting
from jam jars in 
every room.

A harp in the 
dining room and
a ping pong table
in the basement.



More quiet time.
{She is one of three
siblings, ages 9-11.}

Having this wee soul
as a visitor helped me
to remember that old
adage that beauty is in
the eyes of the beholder.

Isabella also reminded
me that all of us need to
tweak our lenses once
in a while, shifting our
settings back from what
is lacking to what is 
abundant.



Next year she wants to
come visit for a week.

By herself.

Just a few days ago, I
would have fretted 
that she'd be bored, but
now, now I know 

so

much

better.


Happy July, my friends.


It's going fast.


xo
Suzanne


Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Being There



I could have just
as easily skipped our
regular McDonald's
date on that day ten
years ago. 

But he so looked
forward to it.



So, in we went, my
son anticipating his
chicken nuggets and
the giant play land and
me a few still moments
with him sitting across 
the table, cheerful grin
 and eyes the color
of milk chocolate, as
he tucked into his
Happy Meal.

We ran into a friend
having lunch with 
another friend of hers
and were introduced.

That friend had a little
boy the same age as
mine and shyly at first,
and then more boldly,
they tackled the play
land together and became
fast pals.


2002
Later, they would tackle
pre-school, elementary
and the first year of
middle school together,
as well.



Last summer when this
best buddy and his family
moved to Chicago, my
son had to navigate his
first real loss of someone
who had always just
been there.



As those of us more 
seasoned know, there is
no easy way to cure the 
sadness that occurs when 
a person who is close to 
you is suddenly far, far 
away.



And boys aren't always
the best at keeping in 
touch.



But these two stayed
connected in a way that
previous generations have
not been able to,
through e-mail, texts and
on-line X-box games.



{It probably helped that
during the years the boys
were forming a solid
friendship, so were their
moms.}



So it was with happy
anticipation that my son
and I visited our Chicago
friends last weekend, to
see them in their new
home, to catch up, to
laugh and to enjoy having
them just be there, like
the old days.



As my Gigi used to say,

Nothing good lasts forever.

But I like to think that if
friendships have deep and
solid roots, they do endure,
even if the friends are not
geographically there for
each other any longer.


2012

Perhaps they can even 
grow,
in a new, 
different way.

The tender friendships
one gives up, on parting,
leave their bite on the heart,
but also a curious feeling 
of a treasure somewhere
buried.
~ Antoine de St. Exupery

Do you have a
close friend
who lives
far
away?



xo
Suzanne







Monday, July 2, 2012

Summer Prayers


If I really wanted to pray,
I'd tell you what I'd do.  I'd
go out into a great big field
alone or into a deep, deep
woods, and I'd look up into
the sky ~ up ~ up ~ up into
that lovely blue sky that looks
like there is no end to its 
blueness.  And then I'd just
feel a prayer.

~ L.M. Montgomery,
Anne of Green Gables




If Anne's definition of 
praying is true,
then I have done a lot of
it already, this summer.


When I take Gracie out
first thing in the morning,
head leaned back, eyes
closed, inhaling the 
sweet morning air,
this
is
prayer.


When I hug my teddy bear,
taller-than-I-am son and
smell that summer scent
of sunscreen mixed with
fresh air and sunshine,
am
feeling
a
prayer.


When I am in the garden
and pause to stretch and
admire the puffy white
clouds suspended in a sea
of blue, 
this
is
most definitely
a
prayer.

Summer, especially,
encourages this whole
being sort of prayer,
don't you think?


Each day seems to
deliver a new gift,
whether it's the scent
of honeysuckle on the
breeze, the splash of
a fish jumping in the
lake or the sight of
a mother duck waddling
across the road with
her babies in tow.


It's that first sip of iced
tea on a steamy afternoon,
the laughter of children
at the local beach or pool
and the deep purple of 
clematis blossoms twined 
up the side of a mailbox.


It's also crisp sheets on
hot nights, stars that you
can reach out and nearly 
touch, bird song at dawn, 
biking down a country road 
and ripe, fat peaches.


I think that Anne, such
a wise little soul, was
truly on to something.

Gifts and prayers.

Are you feeling them,
too?

xo
Suzanne